


The Princess of Perthshire

by lychee02



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Feels, BAMF Women, Drama & Romance, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff and Angst, Historical Figures, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Horse Racing, Humor, Indian Character, Nazi Germany, Period-Typical Racism, Pining, Political Parties, Politics, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smoking, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26552371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lychee02/pseuds/lychee02
Summary: "I think there's someone you should meet," Churchill had said to Tommy. That is how Tommy meets Princess Sophia Duleep Singh, the famous Indian princess. Queen Victoria's goddaughter is a strange choice for a gangster, but to find the traitor in his midst and to take Mosely down, maybe Tommy needs an unconventional ally. If anyone can understand the need to keep your throne, surely it's a princess without a kingdom.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby & Original Female Character(s), Tommy Shelby/Original Character(s), Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s), tommy shelby - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Tommy was fixing races because he and the company were desperate for money. He didn’t need to actually be at the races- he could have just told Arthur to do it- but after two days of holing himself up in his study with whiskey and dope and hallucinations of Grace, Ada stormed in and demanded he get his shit together. 

“So you’re plan didn’t work, what the fuck is moping about it gonna do, ‘ey Tom?”  


He had been sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands and Ada looked slightly blurry and he wanted to reach out and tell her that he was scared because he didn’t know what to do and he wasn’t used to not knowing and his chest felt heavy like he was breathing in the sullied air of the tunnels and he was filled with dread but had no idea what he was dreading.  


But he didn’t know how to say that so he just nodded and let Ada help him out of his chair. He went with Johnny Doggs and Arthur to Cheltenham, just to clear his head. But after only ten minutes of being in the stable, he was approached by a young, blond man.  


“Mr. Shelby, my name is Edward Reynolds, I’m a junior private secretary of Winston Churchill,” the man introduced himself. “He asked me to introduce you to someone.”  


“Introduce me to who?” Tommy asked but Reynolds only motioned for him to follow. So Tommy did, keeping one hand discretely on the gun tucked underneath his coat. Reynold led him to the private boxes, stopping outside a door.  


“Wait here a moment,” he instructed him. He entered the room, shutting the door behind him. Through the film on the small window, Tommy saw two black figures sitting side-by-side. He could hear voices inside but couldn’t make out what was being said no matter how hard he strained his ears.  


Then the door opened and a young, Indian girl in a blue fascinator came out. She hesitated, looking up at Tommy with wide eyes. From behind her, Reynolds gestured for him to enter. Tommy glanced uncertainly at the girl, who still had not moved. She giggled and then scurried away, leaving Tommy with the disconcerting feeling that she knew something he didn’t.  


The inside of the box was lit only by the dim glow of natural light from the window. It took Tommy a moment for his eyes to adjust and for the willowy, pink shape in the center of the room to coalesce into a woman seated away from him. As he moved closer, he heard a soft exhale. From behind the large, tilted hat obscuring most of her face, he saw red lips part and release a plume of smoke, which curled itself into the shroud of vapor draped around her.  


“This is Thomas Shelby,” Reynold said in a low voice. A moment passed before the hat lifted slightly and from underneath its low brim, dark eyes looked searchingly at him.  


“And this is Princess Sophia Duleep Singh,” Edward said to him.  


The Princess stubbed out her cigarette and rose, extending a gloved hand for him to take and saying “How do you do, Mr. Shelby” in clipped syllables.  


Tommy paused as he took her hand before kissing it and saying an uncertain “Your Highness.”  


A ghost of a smirk broke her coolness but it was gone so quickly that he could have imagined it.  


“Thank you Reynolds, if you don’t mind could you keep my sister out of trouble,” she told Churchill’s junior private secretary. The door shut as Reynolds left and the Princess rose from her seat and stepped toward the window. After a moment, Tommy awkwardly joined her.  


“That’s my horse over there,” she pointed. “The Black Prince of Perthshire. Do you race horses, Mr. Shelby?”  


“Sometimes,” he answered. Tommy hated small talk. He wished she would get to the point.  


She nodded. “I imagine being an MP takes up a lot of time.”  


He hummed in agreement.  


“As does taking down fascists.”  


At this, his head jerked toward her. A smirk pulled at the corner of the princess’s mouth as she met his gaze before turning back to the race track.  


“Churchill told me,” she shrugged.  


I think I know someone you should meet, Tommy suddenly recalled Churchill saying to him. He hadn't said anything more and Tommy had been too preoccupied by his assassination plot to give the comment much thought.  


“You’re close with Winston Churchill?” Tommy asked, regaining his composure.  


“Somewhat,” she answered thoughtfully. “He can’t stand me. But the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and he thinks I could be of some help.”  


Tommy regarded her for a moment. “How could you help?”  


He emphasized the last word distastefully, but if the Princess noticed she ignored it. 

“I’m well connected, and I know a bit about politics,” she said. “You’re a smart man, Mr. Shelby, but I reckon you’ve a lot to learn.”  


“And you’re going to teach me?”  


She shrugged. “That depends. What are you getting out of this?”  


“What?”  


“Why are you so adamant on bringing Mosely down?”  


Churchill had asked him the same question and again he couldn’t quite put the words together. All he knew was that Mosely was dangerous and needed to be stopped.  


“Does it matter?” he asked.  


“Yes. I need to know who I’m working with.”  


Her eyes remained trained on the race and Tommy considered walking out of the room. Her bored demeanor irritated him and what use could an Indian princess be of anyway? But there was a reason Churchill wanted them to meet and there was a reason she had let him into her box at all, and he was desperate. So instead he took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know.”  


He looked over at her but her attention remained on the race track. When her horse came in third, she lifted her pointed nose in the air slightly, but he could not tell whether she was pleased or disappointed.  


"I was a tunneller during the war,” he said. “I try not to think about it, but when I’m with him, when I listen to him talk, it all comes back to me. I’m in the tunnels again.”  


She turned her head to the side but looked down as his shoes. At this angle, a fringe of dark lashes rested on her cheekbones and Tommy was struck by the sense that she looked familiar.  


“I was a nurse during the war,” she said quietly. For a minute afterward, neither of them said anything. Then the princess cleared her throat.  


“Thomas Shelby, I will help you.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Sophia went to her brother’s for afternoon tea, she was not expecting to find Winston Churchill sitting by the fireplace, a smile on his face like they were friends- and Sophia and Winston Churchill were not friends.   
When she had reported a police officer for physically assaulting one of her fellow suffragettes years earlier, Churchill, then the police chief, had dismissed her claim. She went directly to the king, but somehow Churchill had gotten word of her visit and when she arrived at Buckingham Palace he was already in King George’s office. After exchanging veiled insults, the King sighed and told Sophia that he could not become involved in political affairs.  
“But uncle, no one else is here. It’s a disgrace that British police acted so savagely. Surely there’s something-”  
“No, Sophia,” the king interrupted. “I have been very lenient with you, but this radical phase is becoming too much. I do not want to hear about this matter again.”  
Sophia was stunned. When she was little, King George-then still a prince- would secretly bring her chocolates, his index finger poised over his lips to indicate it was a secret. Now he was turned away from her, refusing to look her in the eye. She felt her eyes water and mentally berated herself for it. As much as she despised her father, she could understand his agony at realizing that the people you loved most in the world had also hurt you the most.   
She leaped to her feet and bowed to the king. “Very well your majesty. Not another word from me,” she said. King George looked surprised but before he could say anything she was out the door and rushing down the halls of the palace. In her car, she thought about the one glimpse she got of Churchill’s smirk before her quick departure.   
They had been on bad terms since.   
“I’m going to check on the kitchen,” Frederick said stiffly and then left the room. Sophia glared at his back until he turned the corner. She stiffly sat down at the table.   
“Mr. Prime Minister, please excuse my surprise. My brother had not informed me that we would have the pleasure of having you for tea,” she said with a smile.  
“Please excuse your brother for that, I asked him not to tell you that I was coming. I didn’t think you would come otherwise.”   
Sophia was surprised but did not let it show. She waited for Churchill to continue.   
“Have you ever heard of Thomas Shelby?”  
Sophia shook her head.   
“He’s a new labour MP. His constituency is in the Birmingham area. He was a…businessman before. I had a conversation with him a few days ago. He’s trying to take down the fascist movement in Britain.”  
“All before dinner?” Sophia muttered. Churchill ignored her.   
“I think you could be of great service to Mr. Shelby.”  
“Service how?”  
“He’s a smart man, but he lacks…finesse.”  
“Finesse…” Sophia repeated to herself, looking bewildered. “What kind of business was he in?”  
“He’s the leader of the Peaky Blinders.”  
Sophia looked at him blankly. “Which is…?”  
“A gang based in Birmingham, although they live in London as well now.”  
“You want me to associate with a gangster?” Sophia’s tone was even but her eyes betrayed her unease. “This is highly unlike you, Churchill. I wonder, does the king know about this secret tea?”  
Churchill took a drag on his pipe. “I have devoted my life to serving the king. But in matters where you are concerned, his majesty’s judgement becomes clouded. He holds on to hope that you will give up your radical ways now that women have the vote.”  
“And so you’re giving me Thomas Shelby as a pet project? A distraction?”  
“He wants to put an end to fascism. I had thought that you would be sympathetic.”  
“I am, but-”   
“His plan was to ally himself with Oswald Mosely, then assassinate him and take control of the movement. But his plan failed, which means he will need to work with him longer than he expected to.”  
“His plan was to assassinate the man?” Sophia said in disbelief.   
“-So he needs allies,” Churchill continued. “You have a direct line to the king as well as to anarchists. Moseley may be a charismatic speaker, but you could easily shield Shelby from any of his attacks.”  
Sophia considered for a moment. “No matter what his private beliefs are, I cannot ally myself with a man who is publicly fascist.”  
“So, don’t,” Churchill said. “Wait some time.”  
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “There’s something you’re hiding from me.”  
Churchill looked thoughtfully at her. “I’m aware that we have had our quarrels, Princess Sophia. But I believe this is one subject we can agree on. We were both there during the war.”  
Sophia had a flashback to a young man lying on a gurney, his brains spilling out of his skull. She pushed the memory aside.   
“But why me?” she said. “What do you think I could possible provide Thomas Shelby with?”  
Churchill regarded her. “I might regret it later. But I think you’re exactly the person needed to take Moseley and his movement down. A princess with no kingdom. You’ve always occupied a strange middle ground no one can comprehend.”  
Sophia wondered if she drunk or on drugs. “Why did Thomas Shelby’s assassination fail?” she said finally.   
“No idea,” Churchill said. “It wasn’t Moseley who stopped it, though.”   
She nodded. “I will agree on one condition,” Sophia said. “If Catherine ever returns to England, her partner will be permitted to come with her.”  
Churchill’s jaw set, but he nodded.   
“Unnatural though it may be, Princess Catherine’s companion will not face any problems from his majesty’s government.”  
“Then Winston Churchill, I will publicly ally myself with Thomas Shelby.”  
…  
“Yes, is this the Shelby residence?” Sophia said into the phone.  
“Yes, Mr. Shelby isn’t available presently-”  
“Actually, it was Mrs. Shelby I was calling for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments. Reviews help me with inspiration and motivation.
> 
> Princess Sophia Duleep Singh was a real person and I tried to include as much as I know of her. With that said, a lot of this fiction.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please share your thoughts in the comments below.
> 
> Princess Sophia Duleep Singh was a real person and I have tried to remain true to what I know about her. With that said, this story won't be even close to 100% historical accuracy. Her personality and character is of my own creation and, to my knowledge, she never associated with anyone like Tommy Shelby.


End file.
